


Around the Corner

by PhantomsDaughter13



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Childbirth, Dubious Anatomy, M/M, Mpreg, because hydra, long labor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 03:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8148410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomsDaughter13/pseuds/PhantomsDaughter13
Summary: No one ever thought Hydra's experimentation had any kind of morality. Steve and Bucky deal with an aftermath not thought possible the same way they always have: wrapped up together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have been sitting on this story for a good five months and just need to get it out. Again, this was a shameless story written to fulfill something I wanted to see in the fandom. It is not beta-ed, and while I have read it numerous times, I'm sure I've missed a lot. 
> 
> Don't expect much plot, I'm sure it's not super in character, but it's how I view Bucky and Steve recovery, so here we go. If you are easily squicked by birth and pain, please go elsewhere. :)
> 
> Also, I'm Jewish, so I write G-d with a hyphen: sorry if that bothers you!

You could barely even tell. Years upon decades of hard training had made his muscles rigid and unyielding. The smallest amount of bloating gave away what was really under Bucky’s skin, and it both brought tears to Steve’s eyes and made him want to punch a hole through a wall.

Of course Steve had watched the tapes. They were all meticulously labeled to be untraceable, but once the code was cracked, nothing could be hidden. After a month and a half of Bucky vomiting up the precious little food he could get down, Steve was not going to take no for an answer and brought them back and all the HYDRA agents around them down. It was his most ruthless mission to date.

As awful as it is to say, the fist few videos were the easiest to witness. Shots, incisions, medicine drips and ultrasounds; those were brutal, but they were clinical and removed. The rapes, however, were intentionally meant to brutalize, antagonize, and terrorize.

Steve spent an hour throwing up everything in his stomach and had to spend the night away from Bucky, pummeling bloodied knuckles into bag after ruined bag. When he exhausted himself past the point of tears, he curled up at the end of Bucky’s bed. He woke up to the feeling of rough hands tracing the fading scabs on his knuckles, long brown hair covering blue, blue eyes. They spent the rest of the day curled together in bed.

It took Steve longer than he wants to admit to not think of the baby as something evil. He still had nightmares about the look of disbelief when he tried to talk to Bucky about how Bruce could help him get rid of it. Bucky didn’t speak to him for two weeks until Steve broke down at his feet.

Regardless of the Serum and medical experimentation, Bucky’s body was just not made to safely and easily carry a baby. The solidity of his muscles meant that the baby could not grow out, and so his innards were constantly being shifted and squished. He barely had any room in his stomach, his lungs were being compressed, and his spine was being pressed on. By the end of the third trimester, he spent most of his time in bed or on the couch, breathing shallowly while Steve did his best to rub the cramping pain from muscles and swollen joints. 

Bruce came up to their apartment at an increased frequency until he was there every day. The Braxton Hicks contractions on top of everything else had caused Steve to spend as much time as possible with his hands on Bucky’s taut belly, rubbing softly to calm both the baby and his muscles to hopefully create some peace for Bucky. He never complained, but Steve could see his distress in the line of his jaw and the paleness of his skin.

Bruce taught them breathing techniques and showed them positions to go in that would help them with back and shoulder pain, joint swelling, as well as positions for labor and pushing. Steve mentally took as many notes as he could, and he would try his best to have Bucky breathe through his cramps and aches.

Ultimately, he would give in to the exhaustion in Bucky’s eyes and let him squeeze his hands and suffer in silence. Steve felt helpless in the face of his pain.

He woke up knowing that today would be the start of it. Bucky was curled around a body pillow at his side, back so tight that Steve could see all of his muscles clench with his stilted breathing. He shifted forward and kissed the back of his neck, sliding one hand around his waist to protectively cup over his navel.

Almost immediately, Bucky’s flesh hand encircled his wrist and squeezed hard. 

Steve pushed himself up on one elbow so he could see Bucky’s face. His eyes were clenched tight, his lips a pale line in his face. Dotting pearls of sweat stood out on his forehead and temples. Bucky’s chest hitched as he gave in to his body’s demand for oxygen, a soft grunt escaping his throat.

Steve’s blood both froze and seared hot at the feeling of his abdominal muscles pulling in brutally under his large hand. He ducked down and nosed gently at Bucky’s temple, sitting up to free his other hand to gently stroke Bucky’s long hair back.

He ran his fingers through Bucky’s damp bangs until he felt the contraction release against his fingers. He wiped the sweat from his face with the sheet.

“Buck?” he asked softly, setting his hand solidly along the back of his neck. Bucky’s eyes slit open slightly, his lips parted and flushed as he breathed as deeply as he could in the face of the pain’s release. “How long has this been going on?”

Bucky swallowed thickly before intoning a rough “Dunno,” burying his face into the pillows and releasing as long a sigh as his crushed lungs could muster. Steve frowned still at the grip left around his wrist, his thumb gently rubbing at the swollen flesh beneath his fingertips.

“It’s not too bad, yet. Just lots of pressure.” Bucky grimaced, a tick tightening in his jaw as he shifted fruitlessly to find a comfortable position. Steve swallowed heavily and lent to press a kiss to the knot of that tight jaw.

“Want a bath?” he asked against his skin. “Might help with the pressure.”

He could hear Bucky thinking about the pros and cons of moving his aching, pained body from his curled ball. Finally, he acquiesced, nodding jerkily. 

Steve gave him another kiss on the cheek before he reluctantly pulled his arm free from Bucky’s fingers. “I’ll go and fill up the tub. Yell if you need me, okay?” He squeezed Bucky’s arm as he nodded again, his own flesh and blood hand held tightly to his belly, moving up and down with his shallow breaths. As usual, he held his metal arm away from his body. He always kept his left arm away from himself, especially his belly. 

Steve moved quickly to their bathroom, putting the plug in the tub as he turned the hot water tap. He tempered it with cold water and adjusted until it was filling with steaming water. He stood quietly for a moment, putting his head in his hands and allowing himself to hyperventilate for a moment. 

He thinks about what this was going to be like, having to watch and support and coach Bucky while his body betrays him, wringing tighter and tighter with pain until Bucky will have to work alongside his muscles to turn himself inside out. A soft whimper catches in his throat and causes him to cough, blinking tears out of his eyes. His throat catches on a bubbled sob, and he closes his eyes while he rides it out.

He doesn’t have the right to this. He goes to the sink and splashes cold water on his face, bracing himself on the edges and rocking a little as he fought to push down the panic. 

He hurried back to their dark bedroom. In the time it had taken him, another contraction had tightened up Bucky’s abdomen. His metal fist was holding tight onto the reinforced bars of their headboard. Steve rushed over and grasped his right hand in his own grip, moving to whisper in his ear, soft, worthless words while his lover’s body grew tighter and tighter. With a groan, Bucky finally took a deep breath, panting slightly. He shivered under the new sheet of sweat that covered his skin. 

Color flooded his lips to the point that they were flushed bright red, a slight indentation from teeth creating divot. Steve kissed him gently on the bottom lip, eyes taking in Bucky’s face until dark blue eyes opened. They were glassy and slightly unfocused. 

“Let’s get you up,” Steve said, once more sweeping back his long curtain of hair and running his fingers along the long line of his neck. “C’mon.”

He reached around and helped brace as much of Bucky’s weight as he could while helping him shift upright. Bucky grimaced tightly as he palmed his low stomach, eyes focused inward as Steve held his body tightly against his chest. Steve slid his hand over Bucky’s and entwined their fingers. 

“Take a second,” he whispered. They sat until the other man gained his equilibrium, and then he supported him around his back as he got his feet under him. Bucky grunted and spread his feet a little wider before leaning back into Steve’s hold a little more heavily. 

Steve’s hands braced heavily along his hips, pushing against them when Bucky hissed in his hold. He let out a choked moan at the pressure and breathed a few heavy gusts through his nose. After a moment he tapped Steve’s hand and started to gingerly walk toward their bathroom. 

His entire center of gravity had shifted with the hard, heavy core filling him up and pulling him forward. His battle heavy muscles were pulled to the extreme and caused him severe pain on the best of days.

Steve kept a hand on the hot skin at the small of his back. Dressed only in loose sleep pants that slung low under his belly, Steve could see just how tightly bunched Bucky’s muscles were in his neck and between his shoulder blades.

Steve snagged a hair tie from their countertop when they got inside. “Hang on,” he said softly, reaching his hands forward to sweep the long locks of hair up from sticking to his skin. He tugged the tie around until he had a messy bun, then ran his hands down to softly squeeze his shoulders, pressing his lips softly to the top of his flesh one. 

Bucky reached back and ghosted his hand against Steve’s abdomen, a silent thank you for the gesture. 

“Here,” Steve said, grasping onto Bucky’s flesh hand and bussing his knuckles. He pulled the sleep pants away from Bucky’s hips and held him against his body as he carefully stepped out of the fabric. 

They stood and breathed together for a moment, Bucky resting his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve gently and tenderly ran his hands over Bucky’s skin, breathing into his scalp and relishing the soft heat under his fingers. As always, his large palm landed on Bucky’s belly, still so tightly muscled, but hiding something so precious and fragile. It made Steve’s throat hurt.

“C’mon, before it gets cold,” he whispered through the lump. “I’ve got you.” He used his strength to hold Bucky steady by his flesh arm and around his ribs as he stepped in the water.

Once his feet were planted, he looked at Steve expectantly. Steve quickly shucked his own shirt and sweats, and once more reclaiming Bucky’s hand, he stepped in behind him. With Steve at his back, Bucky reached out and braced his metal arm on the tiled wall, bending his knees as he began to lower himself down into the water, grimacing and leaning back into Steve’s hold as he worked to not bend at the waist.

Steve lowered him as steadily as he could. “Slow, slow, I’ve got you Buck.” He removed his arm from Bucky’s hand and braced the middle of his back.

He was almost all the way down when Bucky grunted suddenly, grabbing back onto Steve hard enough to bruise. He tucked his pelvis and clumsily situated himself into a squat, moaning deep in his throat, knees spreading as he rounded his spine.

Heat rocketing up his spine, Steve moved to mold his chest to Bucky’s back, thumbs rubbing tight circles at the dimples around his sacrum. 

“Just keep breathing, Buck, breathe with me, don’t hold it.” He tucked his chin over Bucky’s shoulder. The skin on Bucky’s face was flushed, mouth tight and eyes almost squeezed all the way shut. Steve slowly turned his head to press a lingering kiss to a sharp cheekbone, whispering against the skin.

“Focus on me behind you. Breathe with me, c’mon. It’s almost over now, you’re doing so good.” Eyes locked with his, black pupils so big that only a small outline of blue could be seen. He was holding himself so rigidly that Steve thought he might splinter apart. Steve pressed himself more solidly against him, breathing deep and slowly. Bucky choked on his first few breaths, holding so tightly to Steve that he felt his bones grind together, but by the time the crunch of his muscles let up, he was at least breathing.

When he got his bearings, he let go of Steve’s wrist and used the wall and the lip of the tub to settle his pained body down in the warm water, moaning lowly. Watching closely, Steve followed him the rest of the way, spreading his legs wide enough for Bucky to press himself back. Once he did, Steve wrapped his arms around his waist and rubbed gently at his bloated abdomen, trying hard, as he had been doing for the past few months, to imagine a full term baby laying hidden behind the hard ridges, careful not to press too hard on the sensitive skin. 

Bucky blew out a long breath through pursed lips, little by little settling his weight back onto to Steve until he was nestled in his arms, head resting on his shoulder and flesh hand tangling with those on his belly. His metal hand he left curled around the edge of the tub. 

They rested together for a few quiet moments before Steve bent and kissed gently at Bucky’s temple, breathing in his scent and allowing some of his tension to drain, having him safe in his arms. “I love you,” he whispered, feeling every part of his own body aching for the man in his arms. 

Bucky huffed a breath, tipping his head to the side to rest their foreheads together. 

“I’m okay,” he said roughly, squeezing Steve’s fingers lightly. 

Steve had to close his eyes and bury himself in escaping strands of Bucky’s hair.

They spent the next few rounds of contractions wrapped up in each other and the warmth of the bath water. During each pain, Steve did the best he could to coach Bucky through breathing, using soft touches and words to try and ground him beyond the agony of his rebelling body.

The next contraction hit hard, punching a breath out of Bucky’s chest and causing him to throw his head back on Steve’s shoulder, his knees spreading and pushing him back.

“Ah!” he gasped, panting hard while screwing up his face, hand grasping hard at Steve’s bicep and digging in his nails.

“You’re okay, Buck, I’ve got you. That’s it, you’re doing great, just keep breathing.” He could hear the squeaking of Bucky’s teeth gritting against each other.

Suddenly he let out a huge groan, curling forward hard over his belly, water sloshing violently over the sides of the tub.

Steve bit his lip and tentatively ran his hands over the trembling body between his legs. 

“G-d, Buck,” he whispered in an anguished tone, taking in his curled spine and choked breaths.

As quickly as the torrential pain seized Bucky’s body, he collapsed back into Steve, teeth chattering as he palmed his abdomen. “Fuck,” he panted, turning to tuck his head beneath Steve’s chin. “Water broke.”

Steve could see the change of color, the slight yellow and pink of amniotic fluid. Steve blinked spots from his eyes and swallowed, throat suddenly dry.

“JARVIS?” he called, protectively curling his arms tighter around his lover. “We need Bruce.”

~*~

Bucky was rocking on his forearms and knees on their bed, full body bare and shivering. His hands were clutching each other, head bent so his forehead rested on his thumbs. Droplets of water still rolled down his skin, but no one paid them any mind.

Bruce was quietly donning gloves from his little black bags. Steve stood back and watched, arms crossed tight over his chest. 

Bucky let out a soft whimper as he arched his back more, shoulder blades sharp as they flared. 

Bruce moved over to the bed and knelt a knee up to get closer.

“I’m going to check how far along you are. I’m going to first put my hand on your hip for support, then perform an internal exam. Is that okay?”

Bucky rocked in silence for a few moments more before he quietly said “okay,” and painstakingly stopped his movement. 

Bruce pulled himself farther up on the mattress before putting a hand softly on his left hip. Even warned of the touch, Bucky’s body flinched away from the contact. Steve was helpless to not move forward and stroke over his shoulders. Bucky tugged him until he was sitting cross legged before him with his back against the headboard, and reached out to hold onto his calves and bury himself in Steve’s lap.

Steve collected all of Bucky’s damp hair from where his bun had fallen out in his hands, baring his flushed neck. He bent and pressed his lips against the skin, not a kiss so much a connection of flesh.

He felt Bucky flinch again and suck in a hard breath with Bruce started his exam, squirming slightly as a way to get away from the discomfort.

“I’m sorry, I know this isn’t very nice,” Bruce said kindly. Bucky breathed out a sob, and Steve felt his eyes burn. He gently scraped his teeth on the back of Bucky’s neck, and sighed as he felt a different shiver go down Bucky’s back. He had to consciously not grip Bucky too hard. He combed through his hair a few more times, keeping his eyes closed to Bruce’s probing fingers.

“You need to relax. I know that sounds terrible, but it’ll hurt less. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Steve lifted his head to look down at Bucky’s arched back, shivering in the lightly of the room due to sweat and the leftover bath water. He settled his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and followed the line of his spine down to his hips and then back up. He kept the pressure just hard enough to press into the rigid muscles, and little by little he felt Bucky’s body relax in tight increments. Bruce nodded at him and continued to work between Bucky’s thighs, and Steve allowed himself to be mesmerized by the feeling of Bucky’s long, strong back under his palms.

He blinked back to himself with Bruce leaned back, pulled off his gloves.

“You’re around eight centimeters dilated already- how long have you been feeling contractions?” Steve felt his stomach drop at the proclamation and looked down at Bucky’s head buried in his lap.

“Buck?” he prompted as the man slowly levered himself up on his hands and knees. 

“I only noticed a few hours ago. I guess I may not have been able to feel anything until they were stronger.”

“Christ, Buck,” Steve cursed, running his hands up and down Bucky’s arms so he didn’t have to look at the shakiness of his own fingers. Bucky sat down his lower half, knees still spread on the mattress cover. 

“Well, it looks like things are going well, but just quickly. Transition is the last step before delivery. It’ll get more intense before this is all over,” he warned quietly. “So just listen to what you body wants. Move if you need to, walk, squat, sleep, take a shower, whatever. I’ll step out to your living room to give you some space, but I’ll be back in an hour to check on you unless you call me.”

Steve nods and gives him a small, quick smile before he turns back to Bucky, who has settled back on his haunches, running his right hand low over his belly in slow strokes.

Steve hears the soft click of the door closing, but all he could do was look at the figure in front of him. Bucky’s skin was a mix of pale and flushed, eyes bruised in his face, hair damp and sticking to his shoulders. His whole body was trembling and slick. 

The idea that he had been in labor for a long time and hadn’t been able to feel it was making Steve sick to his stomach. He ran his own hand down the length of Bucky’s belly and moved to press a kiss to his forehead.

Bucky snaked his hand around the back of his neck and redirected his kiss to his mouth, lips firm and warm. They traded a few languishing kisses until Bucky needed to part for breath, panting softly with their foreheads resting against each other.

“I’m okay, Steve,” he said as firmly as he could, brushing one last light kiss over the corner of his mouth before he sat back to look him seriously in the eye. Steve reached up a hand to frame his face, thumb tracing the arc of one sharp cheekbone. 

“I just hate seeing you in pain,” he admitted thickly, blinking hard. “It kills me that I can’t stop it or take it away. I just don’t want you to hurt.” 

Steve couldn’t read Bucky’s expression for a moment before he smiled indulgently and turned his head to kiss his palm. 

“You big, noble idiot,” he said fondly, a ghost of his rarely seen grin on his face. “At least this pain is worth something.” Steve looked at him for a moment, trying his best to really take in what he was saying. It was worth something. Maybe this baby had been forced on him, maybe it had hurt his body, but it was a baby. And Bucky wanted to have this baby, and Steve wanted whatever Bucky wanted.

“Just have my back through it,” Bucky asked, looking up at him through his dark lashes. Steve nodded and tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear. 

After that, things escalated. The strength of the contractions became brutal, freezing Bucky in his tracks in their slow pacing of the room. Bent double, he held on to Steve with all his strength and tried to get in a few small, hitching breaths before the pain let go, teeth bared. 

Two hours into transition found Bucky on his knees in the bathroom, fruitlessly retching at the height of each pain. Steve held back his hair and ran a cold washcloth over his shoulders. He bit his tongue whenever Bucky would release a quiet whimper or sob in the face of his torment. 

Panting shallowly as if he had been running a long distance, Bucky allowed himself to fall back in the safety of Steve’s arms, face wet and eyes blurry. Steve took the washcloth and wiped Bucky’s lips and forehead. 

When the next pain came, Bucky tucked himself further into Steve, turning to hang on to his neck and spread his knees wide, huffing against Steve’s pulse point. Steve braced him with his hands against his lower back and flank, his cheek resting on the top of his head. 

Bucky groaned deep in his throat, the nails of his flesh hand digging into the skin of Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s thumb rubbed circles into his skin, desperately trying to hold out until the end of this pain. His world had been drawn down to one pain or the next. 

Bucky’s hands slipped from around his neck and he hunched over his belly, forehead braced between Steve’s legs. Steve can see each vertebra in his back with the way it is rounded. He traces over each one with his thumb. 

Bucky groans again not long after, muscling himself back up and hanging on around Steve’s throat. His grip is tight, breath rapid and shallow as the surge grows and grows. 

And then suddenly he grunts and pulls down hard. One of Steve’s hands flies up to hold him, the one on his hip shifting to his lower back and the other holding on between his shoulder blades. 

“Buck?” he asks softly. Bucky just shakes his head briefly, breathes in quickly and then grunts again, arching his back and adjusting his grip.

Steve’s vision does a funny thing where it blurs before sharpening, realizing in a supernova of feeling that Bucky is pushing. He feels the air rush from his chest in a punch before he refocuses, the short hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

When the pain cedes control once again, Bucky moves to sit back on his heels. He shakily reaches between his legs, face clenching in discomfort. Steve reaches out to run his hand slowly up and down his thigh.

Suddenly, Bucky looks straight up at him, eyes bright and focused and sharp, mouth parted. 

“I can feel it,” he breathes, a proud, fierce grin growing on his mouth.

Steve’s hand freezes on his leg.

“Should I get Bruce?” he asks weakly, his entire body rigid and ready to run. He hears a noise and looks in the bathroom’s doorway behind Bucky and sees the doctor already waiting, quiet and out of the way. JARVIS must have notified him about the change of pace.

Bucky swallows quickly, a grimace contorting his beautiful grin as he shakes his head again. 

“I don’t want him. Just you. I can do this.” His blue gaze was fiery and fierce. Steve was helpless to say no. He looks back at the door again to see Bruce nodding and staying where he stands, out of the way but ready to intervene if needed.

“I know you can do this, Buck,” Steve rasps. Bucky shoots him another short, bright grin, ribs billowing in his chest as his body continued to shiver and labor. His hand came out from between his legs and braces on his hip, fingertips damp with fluid.

“What can I do for you?” Steve asks lowly, grasping his hand and pulling it close so he can wipe the dampness from the tips. Bucky flips his hand and twines their fingers, squeezing gently.

“Just trust that I can do this,” he asks softly. “This is mine. Let me fight it my way, no matter how much it hurts me.” Steve bites his lip to keep what he thinks about that silent, and Bucky shoots him an exhaustedly amused look. “Please, Steve?” 

Letting out a long and shaky breath, Steve nods, raising their hands and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s knuckles. That seems to cement Steve into watching Bucky engage in the battle with his body, left on the side with his heart in his throat. 

The first few pushes Bucky gives are tentative, hands braced on thighs and eyes shut, voice humming low in his throat. He rocks in between, rolling his hips and shoulders, shooting Steve a cold look when he reaches forward to wipe the sweat from his face.

Cowed and terrified, Steve sits back and bites his tongue, shooting a look at Bruce, who is still watching attentively from his place outside the door.

The next contraction hits harder, causing Bucky to cry out softly and clench his teeth in retaliation, back bowing as he bends over and moves his hands to the floor between his spread thighs. He sucks in a quick breath and growls throughout the rest of the surge. He jerkily makes himself more upright in the aftermath, panting and wiping sweat rivulets off on his shoulder jerkily. He rests his hand against his belly, brow furrowed.

He continues to breathe shallowly, a tick of discomfort starting up in his jaw as he tries to muffle another cry at the start of the next pain. He doubles down, eyes focused in the distance as he pushes hard with his abdominal muscles pulling tight. His face grows paler and more distressed the longer he pushes, a flush high on his cheeks.

Bucky’s pants dissolve into a quick whimper as he pauses and reaches between his legs again. When he pulls back his hand, his fingers are darkened with bloody show. He stares dazedly at them before he looks up at Steve, breath quickening.

“You’re okay, Buck,” Steve says softly, once more reaching forward to wipe off his hand. “Just keep pushing, you’re doing so good.” Bucky continues to look at him with wet, wide eyes, a battle warring on his face before he clasps Steve’s arm and pulls him closer. He was beyond the capability of speech, so he maneuvers Steve where he needs him, pulling himself up on his knees and then up even more so he was squatting on his toes. He gulps low in his throat, eyes hard and hands holding on tight to Steve’s shoulders as he settles deeper into his new position.

Steve’s hands fall naturally to Bucky’s hips, thumbs rubbing as he feels Bucky start to strain, his weight moving down and back. Bucky grunts hard and huffs a few quick breaths before he pushes fiercely, face turning red with exertion and veins standing out in his neck and forehead. 

He ends with an anxious growl, breathing fast and shallow. Steve moves one of his hands to his low belly, his own stomach aching in sympathy as he feels the expansion and contraction of muscle. He leans forward and presses a lingering kiss to Bucky’s hot forehead, closing his own eyes as he feels Bucky’s shoulders start to shake with suppressed sobs.

“Deep breaths,” is all he can say. “Deep breaths while you can.”

He feels Bucky’s chest hitch as he tries to deepen his breathing before his body once more goes rigid. He starts to hum through his breaths as the pain rises. He leans his head forward to rest on Steve’s shoulder, shaking while he breathes out a sob, helpless to choke the sound down. He pulls his arms tight, the right one moving to wrap around Steve’s bicep.

He continues to hum, tone rising up to a whine as he bares down hard, rocking his hips. Steve kisses his temple and looks out to Bruce, who has hunkered down and was observing from as close as he can get. He has his gloves on and is looking closely between Bucky’s legs. He glances up to meet Steve’s eyes before giving him a quick smile. “Crowning soon,” he mouths, nodding to Bucky’s shivering back. Steve’s breath hitches and Bucky groans into the hollow of his throat, ending in a deep and pained grunt. 

The hand that Steve has on his lower back moves farther down to his sacrum, pressing as hard as he dares. Bucky breathes hot and wet for a moment before he moans brokenly and grunts while he strains so hard his entire body shakes. 

Suddenly he breathes in so sharply that he chokes on it and has to cough. He reaches between his legs and digs deep to push again, eyes clenched closed and sweat running down his face, his skin turning mottled with purple with how hard and long he is straining.

Steve keeps his hand around his body, watching his face closely as he slides it slowly down to find Bucky’s that were exploring his entrance. Steve couldn’t stop the burning in the eyes when his own questing fingers met Bucky’s, having landed on something hard and slick. He felt it bulge out a little with Bucky’s last effort to push with this contraction, and brushes it with his middle finger as it slips back when Bucky eases off the pressure.

“Oh, Buck,” he whispers in a choked voice, closing his eyes tight once to clear his vision. 

Bucky pulls his hand back and grasps once more at Steve’s arm. When Steve goes to remove his own hand, Bucky’s metal fingers hold him in place. All Bucky could do was look at him, face and throat flushed red and pink, long hair wet and plastered to his forehead and cheek. 

Steve inches closer and opens his hand wider, protective and all encompassing. Their foreheads meet in the middle, and suddenly Bucky was fighting again, starting out with a keen and finding his stride while holding his breath entirely, silent as his body thrummed with tension. Steve felt the hard curve of the baby’s crown press forward again against his palm, pushing against Bucky’s skin and opening him wider.

Hissing his breath a few times, Bucky pushes even harder, voicing his pain and contorting his face. The baby’s head moves further into Steve’s hand, who did his best to gently aid the stretching skin. Not only could he feel Bucky working his very hardest to birth this baby, but he was leaning all his weight on Steve, trusting him to be the one to protect him where and when he was the most vulnerable he had ever been.

Bucky cried out and sobbed through his teeth, fingers clenching bruisingly on Steve’s arm as he tried to turn his body inside out, metal hand a manacle holding Steve’s hand in place as if he was scared Steve would let go. 

With the next contraction, Bucky’s cries rise into a rough scream, eyes opening wide while he holds onto Steve like his life depends on it. Steve feels the crown of the baby’s head ruthlessly muscling forward, holding Bucky wider and wider as it breaches him. 

“Breathe, Buck, just pant, you’re okay, it’s okay.” He feels his words being swallowed up by the ragged breathing and distressed groans Bucky was making while he tried to desperately keep himself together. 

“Push, keep going,” Steve urges, feeling Bucky’s choked moans and grunts all the way through his chest from where Bucky had braced his forehead against his breast bone. He arches his back and pushes hard and slow, rolling his neck while he exerts as much pressure back as he can. The head pushes forward again before it recedes slightly.

Bucky pants and sobs exhausted tears in the interim. Steve kisses his ear and holds his lips against his sweaty forehead.

Bucky goes into the next contraction with guns blazing, growling and groaning as he leans back on his haunches, choking out “come on, come on,” while he works on crowning the baby. He groans animalisticly, the tendons sticking out of his neck with the intensity of his effort.

With the next lull he falls forward slightly into Steve’s hold, face lined with desperation.

“You’re doing it, Buck. The head is almost out, just a little more.” He kisses him lightly on the lips, trying to be as earnest as he can without showing that his heart is beating as fast as a hummingbird in his chest. “But just rest for a second. Close your eyes and rest, you’re okay.” 

Bucky closes his eyes without hesitation and drops his head against Steve’s shoulder. Between contractions, the baby’s head pulls back until Steve’s fingers can only rub against the tip, which he does slowly and with fascination.

Bucky cues him to the start of the next contraction with a moan, face contorting with both pain and upset. 

“You’ve got this, Bucky, push hard, you can do it, push.” Bucky eyes him for a moment before he breathes deep and heaves, leaning his body back towards the floor. His thighs tremble violently, but once more the baby’s head pushes forward to fill the cup of Steve’s palm. “Little more, keep going, harder Buck, harder harder.” 

Bucky throws himself into the contraction, shaking his head as he strains and trembles. “Steve,” he chokes, the head of the baby comes out a little bit more.

“That’s it, Buck, keep going, push,” he coaches, hand massaging the skin of his entrance as it stretches impossibly more and more around the top of the baby’s head. “A little more!”

Bucky sobs and clenches his eyes, hot tears of exertion and pain streaking down his already wet face as he grunts and cries out. His face shakes with the intensity of his strain, and when he finally has to stop he blinks dizzily and seems to waver on his toes, rasping a groan in his throat. 

“Hah, hah, ha, guh,” he pants while he sways dazedly, flesh hand moving from Steve’s arm to palm low on his belly. He swallows thickly, and Steve takes his free hand to tenderly brush the hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks behind his ears, cradling his jaw until Bucky fixes his eyes on him. They were rimmed red, eyelashes clumped together.

“You’re doing so good, Buck,” Steve whispers. “So good, you’re almost there. Just a little bit more and the head’ll be out.” 

Bucky’s chin wobbles a bit before he bites his lip hard enough to make it stop. “I just want her out,” he rasps. 

Steve couldn’t stop the rush of heat in his throat and the low moan that escapes him; Bucky had never told him if the baby was going to be a boy or a girl, and Steve had tried so hard to distance himself that he never let himself ask. 

“The top her head is in my hand, Buck. You’re getting her here.” He makes a point to gently stroke what skin he could with thumb of the hand cupped around that tiny crown. Bucky shivers at the touch to his inner thigh and his eyes flutter shut, panting shallowly. 

“Next one, okay? Get her head out on the next one, I know you can do it.” Steve whispered fiercely against the side of his head, kissing the salt away from the corners of his eyes. His free hand cups the back of Bucky’s neck, running over the damp skin tenderly, tucking Bucky as close to his body as he can without smothering him. 

He can feel every tremor running through him, the wet heat of his gasping breaths and the slick of his sweat. When the contraction finally starts, Steve is ready. 

“Deep breath, Buck, deep breath,” he says, feeling the rigidity of Bucky’s body in his own marrow. “Fill yourself up.” 

Bucky’s grip on him tightened to the point of pain.

“Push, Buck. C’mon, get her out, push hard.” 

He felt the moment Bucky started to heave. The hard curve of the baby’s head pressed into his palm, and he used his fingers to try and gently push back the stretching skin as it crowned fast and fierce. 

Bucky grunted and groaned animalisticly, deep from his throat and his chest, entire body taut and strained. 

“That’s it, keep going, keep going,” Steve said tightly, bending and pressing a quick kiss to the alignment of metal and flesh on Bucky’s left shoulder. Bucky let out a quick, startled moan at the touch, shivered, and then pushed back even harder. 

Using the hand threaded between his hard, shaking thighs, Steve pulled Bucky’s gait a little wider, spreading his hips. He knew he did the right thing when Bucky cried out and bent hard into Steve’s stomach. As he did this, the widest part of the baby’s head reached his rim, hanging against the lip while it decided if it was going to come or not. 

Steve felt Bucky sink his teeth into his arm, panting quick sobs as he tried to ride through the pain without tearing or letting the tiny skull retreat back inside his body. 

And then he rallied. With a pained bellow, the entirety of the baby’s head was in Steve’s shell-shocked hand, causing him to gasp and drop his second hand to help cradle it where it rested right outside of Bucky’s body. 

“Head’s out, head’s out, oh my G-d, you did it Buck, the head’s out. Just a little more.” 

Bucky’s flesh hand was shaking terribly as it delved between his legs and felt for the precious thing held in Steve’s fingers. 

“Ch-che-k-k for the ch-chord,” he stuttered between gasping breaths, pained tears streaming unconcernedly down his hallowed cheeks. 

Breathing just as hard, Steve gently worked his fingers around the delicate curve of the baby’s neck, reaching inside to feel if the chord had wrapped itself around her.

“You’re good, Buck, she’s clear. You’re clear; you can push her out. She’s almost here.” 

Bucky dropped his head down to his chest, rocking as he tried to build up for one more fast rally. He widened his hips even more, whimpering at the pull in his already stretched joints, but he just clenched his eyes and his jaw while he tried to not hyperventilate. 

His instincts were going wild.

He could feel the hot, heavy weight of his daughter’s head just outside of his body. She was vulnerable, so vulnerable, and his skin was hypersensitive as he realized that he couldn’t protect her with his own vulnerability right now. His chest started to seize up and shivers of hot and cold raced down his spine.

He was jerked back out of his head with a soft press of lips to the nape of his neck.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got both of you, you’re safe. You’re safe.” 

Steve. Steve was curved around his back, full body a protective shield while his hands, strong and steady, held the head of his daughter. Steve was here. 

He breathed tightly for a few moments before he allowed some of the curve to lull out of his spine. He rested his lips on the soft flesh of Steve’s inner arm, the one that was threaded through his legs and holding him together. 

“One more, Buck. Just one more good push and we’ll have her body. You’re amazing, you’re incredible, just a little bit longer. You’ve waited so long for her and she’s almost here.” 

Bucky swallowed and palmed his stomach one last time, covering it with his shaking palm while he flexed his metal fingers around Steve’s arm. 

They rested in their little ball of absorption for as long as they could, drawing strength and safety from each other.

When the last contraction started, Bucky was ready. Bearing his teeth, he took in a belly-full of air and pushed, curling forward. He felt the head turn as the shoulders rotated, little grunts of discomfort escaping him as he stretched wider and wider.

“Little more, little more, you are so close, Buck, oh my G-d.”

And then she was out. 

With a splash of fluid and a gurgling cry, Bucky’s daughter was born straight into Steve’s hands. Oh so carefully, Steve held her one handed until he had both hands between Bucky’s legs, bringing her through and up to Bucky’s chest. Bucky himself collapsed on his right hip once she was through, staring at her with wide eyes. 

Steve was laughing tearfully, pulling Bucky’s shaking body back into the warm, solid wall of his own, one hand around his shoulders and the other on the back of the squalling baby.


End file.
